To the World's End
by LadyOfShinzo
Summary: AU Dark King!Mushrambo/Yakumo- A young Yakumo moves to Japan with her family for her father's work. Alone and isolated in this strange land, she meets a Warrior!Enterran made to kill, Mushrambo. The Warrior is planning a revolution to bring down humanity and the rest of the world. But despite his hate for humans he finds himself drawn towards the innocent human girl.
1. Chapter 1

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The word would be ended by his sword, rebirthed in his image, and christened in his blood.

The human rule of this planet would have to come to an end. It is not merely revenge in his reasoning for their death. He is fulfilling the will of the universe. The weak must be purged to make way for the strong.

It had happened in earth's history before, and it will happen again. The earth had done it countless times. Mother Earth had purged, starved, tortured, and killed its own creations time again and time again.

Whether she liked it or not Mushrambo was going to take the job for himself this time. 

The acts of fulfilling the commands of his, soon to be former, human masters come to him easily. Slicing his sword through their bodies, blasting their weapons apart as though they were toys, and ripping their bodies apart with a single blast.

He doesn't use even a diminutive of his full might.

The humans do not know that, not even the ones who created him. His allies do not know have no idea what he is fully capable of.

And the entire world is blissfully unaware at the Holocaust that would soon be at its doorstep that he would wrought.

He is not arrogant enough for him to reveal himself, yet. He knows the humans might still have a trick or two up their sleeves to contain his rebel before it begins.

But he has enough time.

After all he is only fifteen.

The girl knows nothing today.

Yesterday, she understood only what a young girl could of her world; friends, family, music, books, school, and her home, but now she knows nothing.

Yakumo, has just barely turned twelve, but she might as well be a newborn to the world she now sees: signs written in a language she can't read, streets thick with so many people, that she worries she'll be lost in them, so many sounds and things she can't understand.

She clutches to her mother's jeans. She feels a hand lightly placed on her head.

"Don't worry, little one." Comes the smothering Southern accent of her mother. Yakumo buries her head, like a child into her mother's belly. She feels her mother gently pat her light brown hair. She knows her mother is just as overwhelmed and dazed as she is.

She highly suspects her mother's confidence is founded in her unshakable belief in God. Her mother firmly believes there is nothing that is outside God's will. It is that simple faith that puts her mother more at ease than Yakumo could ever be. If only she had the courage to only express more about what she truly felt about faith…

She hears her father's voice.

"Come on, it should be just around this corner."

"Dagio." Her mother calls again, "Are you sure you don't understand Japanese that well?" Her father shoots them back a nervous smile.

"I am sorry, Rebecca, but really I don't remember much of my Grandfather's lessons. He was so old and had left Japan at a young age." He looked around at the crowd surrounding them. "Unless these people heard our names I doubt either of them would suspect we are anything but Westerners. It was true, her father's side of the family had mixed well with the Caucasian side. Yakumo barely had a resemble to his distant Japanese heritage. Her hair was a light shade of brown, and her eyes were blue, like her mother's eyes.

"Well, we will just have to make due with what we have" Her mother said in her usual optimistic manner that Yakumo envied. Why couldn't she appear as relaxed and positive as her mother? Her mother was in the same boat as her. They both came from a small Southern town and now were stuck in the middle of a foreign country with little idea of the culture or language. At lest her father had some idea, since he grew up in New York City, and had some experiences with his grandfather's native land.

Yakumo clung onto her as they made their way through the maze of Tokyo.

It is small. That is the first thing Yakumo notes, but she had been expecting such. Her father had carefully explained that due to Japan being a tiny island nation (And the effects of Global Warming) that space in the country was limited. Rent was expensive, even for a scientist.

Yakumo is not a spoiled child. She is just glad to have a room even if it is tiny. She begins to unpack her things, clothing, photos, stuffed animals, technology, and of course her books. Yakumo had long been a shy, quiet, and peaceful child. The roughness of other children at childhood and the clique and bullies of her later years had made Yakumo retreat into the world of fantasy. A place where she could be a hero, be beautiful, fall in love, have wonderful friends, and great adventures.

A place where she wasn't the shy plain daughter with average grades, despite her father being a scientist, and no athletic achievements to make her stand out in anyway.

It isn't that Yakumo desires a great amount of attention, not at all. She liked having a few close friends, and having time be by herself.

But she always wished there was at least one thing to make her special. Her father was a genius scientist, and her mother was a social butterfly that could bring a smile to everyone's faces and always involved somewhere.

Yakumo feels she has nothing. She is peaceful and hates the violence, competition, and pettiness of the world. She doesn't want to get involved with too many people and risk losing her pacifist beliefs with competitions, gossip, or cattiness.

Her mother has made the suggestion to her that coming to a new country might cause her to come out of her 'shell.' She knows her mother didn't mean it, but the quote hurt. She knows that her mother feels that her introvert personality means she hasn't bloomed, yet. Logically, she knows that her mother doesn't think less of her, but she is afraid if she does stay the same her mother will be disappointed in her.

Yakumo uses the task of organizing her bookshelf to distract her from these thoughts.

She eats a spoonful of cereal, as she hears her parents discuss her father's new job.

"I don't like it. I ain't liking it at all." Her mother has never been one to hide her opinion not even to her husband. "I don't think we can trust those Warrior Enterrans. What if they go rouge?"

"Rebecca," Her father addresses her, calmly. "There is a chip implanted into all Enterrans to make their bloodstream toxic if one ever does go rouge. Besides their have been cases of robots going rouge too. We solved that by deactivation implants." Rebecca looks unconvinced.

"I still ain't liking this. I ain't liking this at all. I don't care what the government says. You can't trust the government anyway. I don't want you to see one of those monsters getting a hold of you."

Yakumo gives a pause that isn't noticed by her either of her parent's. She had seen Enterrans all her young life. She had seen them work in the service centers of her father's nuclear plant. They always did the dirtiest and dangerous work. It was the same everyone with environmental hazards growing the humans couldn't contain it all. The Enterrans had been engineered to survive the worse of the pollution, but still many died painful deaths, slower than the humans, but still they died due to exposure from the pollution they had to clean and maintain.

People spoke of Enterrans like creatures to be used, almost like animals for testing. No, they were animals for testing. Yakumo for the longest time had believed such things, that Enterrans were little better than mindless animals...until one faithful day….

 _A nine year old Yakumo is quietly sitting as she flips through the pages of Abarat by Clive Barker. She is alone in a small corridor, away from the scientist, janitors, and other workers to get a moment of peace. Her father had been running late that day and her mother was out of town, so he had sent his secretary to pick her up._

 _She didn't mind it. As a rule of thumb, she always carried a book with her, so she was never bored._

 _The blue eyes girl hadn't expected to meet anyone that day. And she really didn't._

 _She hears the sound of people...crying. Yakumo feels the tender side of her heart take over, as she bookmarks her page, closes the book, and tucks it under her arm. Yakumo always felt the need to comfort others in anyway she could. She truly hated to see suffering. She knew she wasn't as good as her mom was at it, but sometimes being there was enough, as her mother had taught her._

 _She wonders to around the corner, and stops at what she sees. She sees a trio of tall bipedal reptile Enterrans around...crying. She stops in shock at such a sight. The blue eyes girl has never seen or even heard of an Enterran crying._

" _Mechina, I think it is for the best...she is gone. After all, we all know she lost her will after the radiation had taken her mate and son." One of the larger ones comforts another._

 _Yakumo blinks at this. Enterrans having mates and children, she had never thought of such things. She always thought they breed like...animals._

 _But here were Enterrans mourning their own like people._

" _Yes, she had given up." replied another. Then one turns his eyes to Yakumo. Both the human and the Enterrans are stunned, neither one expecting the other. And she wondered if the Enterrans had ever even seen a child human._

 _Yakumo realizes she has to make the first move._

 _She bows._

 _"I am sorry for your lost. I pray your friend rests in peace." The words come more naturally than she expects._

 _Yakumo keeps herself lowered, as she hears no words from the Enterrans until finally…_

 _"Thank you..." Comes the one who had been crying. The girl slowly rises, about to say something when she is interrupted._

" _Ms. Tatsuro!" Comes the voice of her father's angry secretary. "What are you doing here, and around the likes of **them**! Do you know what danger you put yourself in." The woman roughly graves her before dragging her off._

"Daddy," Comes Yakumo's soft voice, interrupting her parent's argument. "-if the Enterrans didn't want to fight or work in the Danger Zones….could they?" Her father looks at her, his black eyes with a very surprised look in them.

"I never heard of an Enterran requesting such a thing. Yakumo, Enterrans don't think like people do. They are like police dogs who are trained to do their job." Yakumo feels uncomfortable at the comparison to animals.

"But they have Human DNA." She argues.

"Yes, they do. Enterrans can think, they can be affectionate, gentle, kind, and form friendships among themselves. But it only goes so far."

Yakumo frowns at her father's statement.

"We didn't make them very empathic for a reason. They have very dangerous work to do. Everyday we work on new programs and technologies to make their jobs safer, they are well fed and cared for. But they don't have the full caliber of human minds and emotions." He gives her a gentle smile, "I know you are a caring girl, Yakumo, but I promise you the Enterrans have no problem doing their jobs."

Yakumo lowers her eyes back to her cereal bowl. The words of her father do not bring her any peace. She is left to wonder.

But she needs to put such thoughts behind her. She has to get to school

She was completely overwhelmed, the sheer amount of people around the train station was nearly too much to bare.

Maybe it was too much to bare.

She looked up at the strange Japanese Characters that she had no idea what they meant. She is pushed by the passengers, as they hurry about their business, not even caring about the young and frightened girl. Yakumo turns her blue eyes to the paper again, reading the number of the platform she is to get on.  
Back in America, she never went to school alone, she was always driven and picked up by her mother. But in Japan it was expected for her to make her way to school and her mother didn't have her driver's license anyway. Rebecca had been very hesitant about sending her daughter to journey to school alone. But she was meet with assurances that this was the norm for Japan and was perfectly safe for a girl to journey alone.

And besides it would make her stick out more if she came to school with her mother.

With great reluctance her mother had agreed.

Yakumo stepped unto the platform and into the train. She caught a few looks her way, especially due to the fact she was a foreigner wearing a school girl uniform.

She averts her eyes to the floor and holds a pole, as the train begins its journey.

Finally, the American girl has made it to her Japanese Middle School.

She feels lead in the pit of her stomach as she enters the school, all eyes on her. A blue eyed girl in Japanese uniform. She hears words of a foreign language, as she passes by.

But no one goes to speak to her. Yakumo is thankful for that. She takes out the piece of paper again, and reads. The school offered English language classes, and a private class for Japanese learning. It was one of the few to do so. The English classes were the mainly taught by foreigners like her to give the Native Japanese students space to practice their English.

In between classes, she would spend her time in the library and educate herself.

She quietly goes to her locker without a word. Her father had put sticky notes to give the English lettering of the Japanese characters, so she would know what classes.

The Foreign Teachers look at her with surprise as she enters the classroom. They likely got the memo she was from America, but her name likely made them think she was fully Japanese. She sits down at the back of the class quietly and takes her notes.

She notes the eyes on her. A great feeling of uncomfortableness wrestles in her stomach, causing an almost nauseous like sensation. And to think she wished she was special this morning, but she didn't mean it on her skin or eye color.

But since when do wishes grant you exactly what you wanted?

She keeps her head down, as she listens and takes notes.

Throughout the day, she can't force herself to be comfortable. She tries to find herself at ease, but sadly not even the classes distract her. Even though the subjects are mathematics, history, and such it is mostly used to practice English. The teachers calls upon her more times than she wishes to read an English phrase from the book.

She wishes she could have spoken up, been confident, something for the other students to look up to her though. But sadly that is not the case. Her mouth is dry, she stutters and stresses over the words of not only her native language, but also the only one she knows.

She can tell by the looks on the other students faces that she is confusing them at her unclear pronunciation, and much to her shame she finds herself forcing the words so much, that she visibly spits several words that she speaks.

She cheeks turn to red when she hears the giggles.

Soon the teachers stop asking her questions, and Yakumo is thankful to pretend to be invisible.

The students don't have a lunchroom, they eat in class. She sees them pull out their bento boxes to eat.

The girls have dainty little boxes of chibi characters decorated on it. Yakumo pulls out her own lunch of leftover pasta salad with dressing.

She is eating quietly, when she feels a presence over her. She looks up to see a girl standing over her. Yakumo's fork is midway to her mouth, causing more awkwardness. The girl is staring wide eyed at her lunch. She doesn't know what the problem is. Yakumo notices more girls staring at her or more specifiably, her lunch.

Yakumo eyes dart frantically around. Then she realizes the problem.

Her lunch is much bigger than everyone's lunch. A memory clicks on how important the idea of thinness is in Japanese culture. Yakumo is nowhere near fat by American standards, but here the standards were far more strict She lowers her head, as both an attempt to block the girl's gaze toward her.

Then she feels a poke at her stomach, touching the layer of baby fat, that the other girls didn't have, she nearly jumps at being touched.

She hears a giggle.

" _Pocchari_ "

Yakumo has no idea what she means, but the chorus of other giggles makes her humiliation worse.

She doesn't finish her lunch.

–

"Please, don't kill them! She is only a woman and he is only a baby." The man cowers before the Entteran. Mushrambo just gives in him an impassive look. The smell of blood is throughout the desert compound.

The Enterran takes another step forward the man shoots, but the bullets bounce off.

"Please!" The man begs. He has heard of his fellow warriors enjoying the sound of their fallen opponents beg for their lives, but it does nothing but annoy the Dark Enterran. This man had killed countless of his own kind, but upon his death he begs for the lives of what he loves.

It is not a sense of justify that drives Mushrambo. No, cares little of what humans have do to their own kind. But the annoyance is still there. It is times like this that remind Mushrambo just how pathetic the Human Race truly is. It is not that they kill each other. He could understand that, but it is the lack of honor in their deaths. Begging like children for their lives after whipping out there own. Anyone who stepped foot on the battlefield should be prepared to die there.

Mushrambo cuts his head off in one movement.

He hears a woman and the infant in her arms scream. She takes off to run.

He flash steps before her.

He quickly skewers her and the infant on his blade.

He impassively ignores the screams and spasms of her dying body, as he wipes his sword. A thought that amuses him crosses his mind. If any human watching this saw this they would call him heartless.

It wasn't a lie.

But they had made him like this. The swore to make him the perfect weapon. The greatest warrior of all. He was simply doing what humanity wanted him too do. Humans have been doing what he is doing for thousands of years. But they were disgusted by it. They were disgusted by their own warrior instincts that they now coward when it came to their deaths.

So they gave their dirty work to him.

Too him it is another sign of what he needs to do. Humans had let their need to battle and survive atrophy and give their work to his kind.

Humans had become a disgrace to what nature intended of a species: survival.

And he would make them pay for betraying nature.

Yakumo walks down the halls of her father's lab. She has long since lost which place she should go to and where she should be. The white halls all begin to look the same. The young human girl had come to see her father at his lab today, since her mother couldn't watch her. Despite the reminders of Japan's safety, Rebecca still takes great measures for her daughter's safety.

Despite what most would assume of a girl starting her teen years, Yakumo was grateful for it. She probably would have hated it back in America, but in this foreign country she is grateful.

Though she is lost at least it was in the partial safety of her father's lab.

Yakumo is about to decide to retrace her steps when she hears a moan.

A _painful_ moan, like someone is hurting. Her heart freezes. A part of her wants to run, but the greater part of her knows she couldn't leave someone who could be hurt.

"Hello!" She calls out. She only got the reply of further painful moans. She quickly sprints down the halls to find out what is wrong. Finally, she came to a door with Japanese Characters on it that, of course, she couldn't understand.

She can hear the pained cries clearly coming from behind the door. She started to open the door and found it surprisingly heavy.

When she pries door opens a blast of air, so cold it chills her to the bone, hits her. Once she opens her eyes again, she almost loses her breath at the sight before her.

There is a mass of blood, feathers, and pink flesh with clear stitch marks before her. Before her laid a massive bird Enterran: male, by the looks of him. He was large with his mass of wings, spread out, she took note of several pieces of his wings missing. Blood and feathers littered the cold slab of metal he was on. His body was badly damaged, with skin missing, as though torn off, with stitches and pink flesh, and blood everywhere.

Yakumo is frozen. Her fear tells her to run, but she cannot.

The tiny human girl, slowly steps forward to the giant, but helpless, Enterran.

"Hello…?" She whispers, "Do you need help." The Entteran's eyes slightly open, and he weakly turns his head to face his unexpected visitor. She cautiously steps closer.

"Do you need help?"

The Enterran closes his eyes and gives another moan of pain. Yakumo swallows and bravely steps forward toward the Bird Enterran. She nears him, she reaches out her hand, and gently strokes the bloody feathers on his face with her hand.

His eyes slightly flutter open again, it is clear he is not fully aware of what is going on. He might not even realize Yakumo is real.

But she has to try.

"Is there...anything...I can do?" She whispers.

"No, human, there is not a thing you can do." Come a strong voice from behind her. Yakumo jumps at the new voice and turns.

She sees what looks like a human, at first, but she sees his violet eyes and hair, she knows this is a Humanoid Enterran. She looks at his face, looking in his teens, despite not being human he is easily the most handsome man she has ever seen. But she couldn't appreciate his beauty with the chilling look he gives her.

His eyes, though beautiful, there is something about them that isn't quite...human. Perhaps that is a silly thing to say because he isn't human, but she can think of no better word. There is a coldness there...a gaze of indifference, but she senses something underneath the surface. While she doesn't know what it is it makes her feel on edge.

"He is hurt...and the room is too cold." She staggers to answer. Her survival instinct was telling her to get far away from this human looking creature, but she can't. Her sense of duty towards a hurt sentient being overrides her fear.

Something flickers for a moment in those cold eyes.

"Young Human, Moto was gravely wounded in battle and is dying. This is where your kind puts our warrior dead."

"But he is still alive!" She protests, "He should be in medical." The apathy in his eyes is apparent. Yakumo realizes that he has little concern toward his fellow Entteran.

"He likely was in medical, but your race decided he could no longer survive, so they put him here to meet his end?"

"But why here? In such a cold place?" She questions. The Entteran doesn't respond, but merely points behind her. Yakumo turns back to see that behind her are cabinets. She is puzzled for a moment until her blue eyes widened with horror when she realizes what they truly are.

This was a morgue. Nausea from disgust builds up in her stomach. They had put a dying, but living, sentient being on what was literally his grave site to die. She looks around and spots sheets on top of a desk. She goes towards them, picks up a stack, and carries them over to the dying creature.

"What good will that do him? Those sheets won't keep him warm. He isn't even aware of what is going on." Yakumo says nothing for a moment, as she gets a pillow.

"I can't just do nothing. I have to help. I can't just let someone die like this. He deserves some peace."

"You are doing nothing for him." He coldly tells her again. "You can't keep him warm. You good ones are all the same." Yakumo looks up at him, as she gently places the pillow under the Bird Enterran's head.

"What are you talking about?"

"You are putting effort into something that damn well won't help. Those sheets are too pathetic to keep him warm, and that pillow will barely relieve the hardness of the metal beneath him." He gives a dark smirk. "What you are doing is the easiest way to make you feel like you are good, better than the rest of us. You are doing the least amount for him, nothing but a mere show of false altruism."

The words strike her to the core. His harshness and lack of tact for a child's feelings. She wants to cry and protest it is not true. But right now that isn't the right thing to do.

Because he is at least right about this, she isn't doing all she can do. A new set of determination comes over her features, as she turns toward the Humanoid Enterran.

"Please, I beg you to help me. Show me some place warm to take him, somewhere comfortable. Somewhere he can die in dignity."

Mushrambo blinks, he is caught off guard for that.

"That would be the military brackets. It is warm there, at least. But how can you expect to take him there?"

At this, Yakumo looks down at the brackets holding the wheels of the cart in place. She uses her foot to push them up.

Mushrambo realizes what she is trying to do.

"You can't be serious, Human. Something as small as you doesn't have the strength to push him all the way to the brackets." Yakumo ignores this, as she takes the head of the cart and begins to maneuver it to the door.

"Just show me where to go. I will push him there." Mushrambo's expression is neutral, but he moves out of the door way for Yakumo to push the dying Enterran into the hallway. Mushrambo looks back over his shoulder at her and gives her a come hither motion before walking away.

Yakumo pushes the cart following him. The Enterran makes no move or offer to help the human push her heavy passenger, but Yakumo doesn't want him too either. His words of her doing little still echo in her mind. This was as much to prove to herself as it was to him that she wasn't just making shallow comments.

He is heavy, very heavy. The little human has little doubt that the cart had his weight modified or else her thin, twelve year old female body wouldn't have been able to push someone at least over two hounded pounds. She sweats, and breaths heavy, as she continues on. Her hands, arms and wrists become red and swore. Her feet feel like they are pounding on concrete, as she forces them to bare her heavy load.

To the Enterran's credit he keeps his speed at a level the human girl can manage. He doesn't look behind to check on her or say a word. But Yakumo doesn't care for that. She doubts she can even get a word out right now.

The strange Enterran wasn't kidding when he said it was a long while to the brackets. She pushes it over an hour and if it wasn't for sheer will she would have thrown in the towel a long time ago, but on she goes.

Finally, he stops.

"We are here." The first words he has spoken to her since they were in the morgue. He opens the door for her and they enter an empty bracket with bunk beds. She rolls him in, but Yakumo realizes her labor isn't over, yet.

She now has to figure out how to move him from the cart onto a bed.

But then to her great surprise, the Enterran picks up his comrade and easily lays him on the bed. Yakumo quickly moves to pull a thick blanket over him.

"Thank you." She tells him.

"There is no need to thank me. You earned my help, and that is not something I give away easily."

I can tell, Yakumo thinks. She turns to him.

"I have to go now. Will he be okay?" Yakumo asks.

"He's dying." He bluntly replies. Yakumo cringes. She turns and strokes his fathers again. She notes she has gotten some blood on her.

"I know it was little, but it was all I could do." She lowers her head and says a prayer.

"Who are you?" She hears the Enterran ask her. Yakumo blinks, not realizing that they had not even exchanged names.

"I am Yakumo. What is your name?"

"I am Mushrambo, Yakumo." There is silence after the exchange. "I will watch Moto from now on. You may take your leave." He has nothing else to say. It wasn't hard to figure out this Mushrambo guy was a man of few words.

She nods.

"Thanks again." She turns towards Moto and whispers, "I pray you find a better life there than you ever had on Earth."

With that she leaves.

–

 _I hope you have a better life there than you ever had on Earth_

The words of the human child, Yakumo, repeat in his mind.

"Such a foolish, girl." He says, as he takes out another practice target.

There was no other world, no God to reward, no Devil to punish.

There was only this Earth and this life alone where you could survive. He remembered Moto, he remembered how he had died. He was a creature that had little thought beyond his human master's orders; no ambition, no desires of his own.

In Mushrambo's eyes it would be fitting way for him to die. He lived by his master's orders. It was only fitting that he died how they wanted. Cold, alone, forgotten, and in pain.

But then there was that human girl….

"Yakumo." The word whispers from his mouth. He wasn't sure how she got there, and he didn't care how. But that human...her motives made little sense.

She had gone beyond what she needed to make herself feel like she was a good person. She had helped a dying Enterran have a somewhat comfortable death, even if the Enterran was too far gone to realize it himself.

He didn't like it. He didn't like it at all.

In his fifteen years, and all the wars and death he had seen, he thought he knew humans and Enterran well enough and their natures. He knew that survival ruled all and that kindness and altruism were only luxuries that most could only give away in the best of times. That all races would turn against each other when the time and situation was right.

He had seen it time and time again.

He knew it was true.

But that girl….that little human girl…

He couldn't get her out of his mind.

"Yakumo." He whispered again. He tried to will himself into focusing on battle, violence, bloodshed, and the things he understood well. But those blue eyes full of innocence were lurking back in his mind.

He knew the logical answer. She just wanted to prove that she was good to him. She had just wanted to prove him wrong. She really couldn't have done it for selflessness. Right now she was likely in her warm and comfortable home thinking about what a good person she was. Just satisfying her quota of doing good deeds that both Enterrans and humans alike seemed to think they needed to fulfill.

But memories of her words, her eyes, her determination, and just _her._

Why couldn't he get her out of her head?

He then gave a larger blast, at a target, than he needed too out of his frustration.

"She will be dead in a few years." He reminded himself.

Yes, she would. She would just be another word in the long list of his victims when his reign began.

And no one would remember Yakumo.

Not even him.

–

 **Hey, I am back with another DarkKing!Mushrambo/Yakumo story! I wanted to do a story without the rape angle of "Forever Darkness" But I will tell you this won't be a fluffy fic by any means. It will have plenty of dark themes and angst along with it. I really doubt an IC fic with Yakumo and Evil!Mushrambo can ever truly be fluffy...but that is another day**

 **I hope you enjoy, and please review. The Shinzo fandom is so tiny I need to know I have some support.**

 **Thanks for reading**


	2. Chapter 2

**Elie: *GLOMPS* I was so excited to see your review. I thought I had lost you because I wasn't updating "Forever Darkness" enough. I am so glad to see you are still reading me. I am honored you think so much of my writings. Really, you are one of the best reviewers I have on any of my stories. Please, get an account here or a Livejournal, so I can talk to you!**

 **Note: I write what I want when I want too. Reviewing to tell me to work on something else only upsets me and makes me want to do the opposite of what you say. Going to another story to complain about another story not being updated is disrespectful.**

–

Yakumo sits in a small library of the school, carefully turning the pages of her English to Japanese lesson planning book. She also has a small recording of Japanese phrases playing out, as she repeats the phrases to herself, butchering the pronunciation greatly.

The American girl is slowly starting to recognize Japanese speech and phrases just by exposure. She is encouraged to interact with her fellow classmates to practice her Japanese speaking and listening skills. She has yet been able to bring herself to do so.

Her anxiety gives her away, so easily. She is afraid of butchering the words of her pronunciation, saying something stupid and being laughed at. Even back in America it was hard for her to approach others.

So how can they expect her to approach classmates who don't even speak her language?

"Hello?" A new voice suddenly joins her. Yakumo freezes, not expecting someone to talk to her, but despite her anxiety she turns.

There is a Japanese girl in uniform, looking at her wide eyed. A feeling of nausea grows in the pits of her stomach. It seemed this girl at least knew some English phrases at the least. But how much can they communicate without Yakumo embarrassing herself?

"Are you the new American girl here?" Yakumo's eyes shoots up, at the girls spoke good English despite her Japanese accent.

Does she dare hope?

"You can speak English?" She says quietly, as she prays the answer will be yes. Much to her relief the girl smiles and nods.

For the first time in the school, Yakumo suddenly feels at ease.

"My grandfather was from Britain." The girl explains. Then there is a silence.

"May I sit with you?" She asks. Yakumo blushes, her shock at made her look rude.

"Of course, excuse me." She manages not to stutter. The girl pulls up a chair and sits next to her.

"What is your name?" Yakumo gathers the courage to ask.

"I am Hamasuki Akia." It takes Yakumo a moment to remember that last names go first and you end it with a honorfic.

Hello, Hamasuki-San, I am Tatsuro Yakumo." She hears a giggle coming from her new acquaintance.

The American girl freezes. Had she done something wrong?

"We are speaking English, Tatsuro, so don't feel the need for an honorfic. I think they actually sound silly in another language, but thank you for being so respectful." Yakumo feels once again at ease, actually at more than ease.

This girl, Akia, feels easy to talk too, like her friends back in America.

"But I really would like it if we stick to last names because I was still raised Japanese...and it feels odd to use it with someone I just met."

Yakumo nods,

"I understand."

"I am rather surprised that you have a Japanese name." She says, "I am not saying this in a mean way, but you don't look Japanese at all. You look completely Western. How did you get your name?"

"My Great-Grandfather was from here." She answers, feeling more confidence from this girl's straightforward talk. It was clear she had quite a bit of experience with Western Culture despite being raised in Japanese Society. It was was likely due to Akia's grandfather, but whatever it was it makes Yakumo feel safe.

She doesn't have to worry now about accidentally being rude, awkward or, God forbid, offensive by making a cultural blunder.

Yakumo can now be herself. She continues,

"He married a Western Woman and had a son, and so forth. So we kept our Japanese Surname and kept Japanese first names to show respect to our heritage." Yakumo privately thought the practice of giving Western raised children of cultures they weren't familiar with was rather silly. She had sometimes been teased for her name in school. She had vowed to give her child, if she had one, a Western name.

"My half-Japanese, Half-British mother married a completely Japanese man, so I got to Japanese last name through that. I am personally glad...because I rather keep the fact I am part Western to be private."

Yakumo looks at her.

"Don't get me wrong, I am proud of my British and Japanese heritage, but Japanese society is really close knit. My grandfather and mom haven't been allowed in some places for not looking Japanese enough. That is the reason my mom won't go out with me or my dad."

Yakumo feels pity for Akia and her family for having such trouble. But to her guilt it also gives her comfort. There is someone else. Someone else who experiences feeling like an outsider in this culture despite looking Japanese.

"I know how that feels." She answers, "I haven't even gone inside a McDonalds." That was partly the truth. In reality Western Restaurants, like McDonalds didn't have a problem with serving foreigners at all, and most employees were taught a little English to communicate with foreigners. It was Yakumo's anxiety that truly held her back. She was worried about making a mistake, of being in a crowd, and, of course, standing out.

A great big smile breaks over Akia's face.

"Would you like to go to a little cafe with me? It is _so_ cute with an _Alice in Wonderland_ theme. The maids dress up like Alice from the Disney movie." Yakumo's blue eyes widen.

"Is it one of those Maid Cafes?" She nervously asks. She had heard of them where the maids went around in cute, yet skimpy attire, sometimes as anime characters. It was often a perverted establishment that catered mainly to men and even sometimes had massage parlors in the back.

Akia turns red and shakes her head, she excitedly, but nervously waves her hands.

"Oh, nothing like that at all! It is very family friendly." She assures, "Though the waitress outfits are a little skimpy, but I assure you it is nothing like one of _those_ places."

A warmth spreads throughout Yakumo's body. She was making a friend. She was actually making a new friend. She said a quick prayer to thank God before nodding and pulling out her phone.

"Just let me call my mother first."

–

"Please!" The man begs. Nothing quite like pitiful begging makes the Warrior Enterran want to kill. The fact they couldn't face their death with honor on the battlefield proves they have no right to live. Mushrambo carries his bloodied sword as he walks up to the pathetic man. Then the man graves a woman beside him.

He tears off her headscarf revealing her hair, and then rips the front of her blouse, revealing her breasts. She is screaming, begging as usual.

The man then throws the woman at his feet.

"Take her! Just let me go!"

Another so called warrior without honor. Nothing could make him feel more disgust.

Without a word, Mushrambo blasts the woman away, burning her body to a crisp black. Before the man can begin to run, the Warrior Enterran, beheads him with one swipe of his sword.

Mushrambo can sense no more life in the compound.

He begins to clean his sword, when he hears an irritating voice behind him.

"You didn't have to burn her to a crisp you know. You could have at least given me a chance and then killed her." Mushrambo's violet eyes narrow at Jorichu's stupidity.

"We do not need to waste time with your decadence." He hears Jorichu snort. He is a seven foot Changeling with a bipedal body of a bird with Eagle Wings and a lion's face and mane.

"Always in such a damn hurry." He gave a belly full laugh, "You know I think you should have taken the girl at least. I think getting laid would do you a world of good. Besides you are a young man with needs, am I right?"

Mushrambo's eyes are squeezed tightly shut.

He swore that Jorichu would be one of the first he killed. It is times like this that truly tests his patience. But he takes a deep breath, and sheaths, his now cleaned, sword and turns.

"We are leaving." He says, but his voice gives away his irritation, causing Jorichu to laugh once again. Mushrambo doesn't reply, as both set out to air to find their third squad member: Mori, Jorichu's brother.

They find his corpse. A blast in his chest reveals his death by an energy gun. Pathetic, Mushrambo thinks. Of all the ways, to die; not dodging a rifle blast from an insignificant human.

"Well, looks like he's toast." Comments Jorichu as he looks at his brother's corpse. He turns away, spreading his wings.

"Let's go. I am starving after that."

A flash of a girl with soft, but determined blue eyes filled the Warrior Enterran's mind. Before he can stop himself he says,

"Aren't you going to take back his corpse to be burried?"

Jorichu looks back with a puzzled look.

"Why? He is just going to rot, and I don't want to smell something do disgusting while flying." Then a smirk breaks over his face, "Don't tell me the Dark Prince is going soft."

Mushrambo finds himself gritting his teeth. Not only at being called soft, but the use of his hated nickname.

Yes, Jorichu was _defiantly_ going to be one of the first he killed.

"Nothing, let's move on." He ignores, Jorichu's grin, as they take off to the sky.

Why the hell did Yakumo come into his mind? Why does he even remember who she was, much less her name? He tries to force images of the small and weak human girl out of his mind, but she finds the image has settled into his mind.

He remembers her taking time to honor the corpse of a stranger. He doesn't feel that she deserves to be admired for such an act. No, it is not praise that makes her stick out in his mind. It was not her appearance of selflessness or mercy.

Such things would never stick out in his mind.

It was her honor, he realizes.

That girl's honor didn't rest with her strength or battle prowess, but her kindness and respect towards others. It was not something he could relate too, but he recognized honor when he saw it.

And she had went out of her way to prove her honor.

Even if the honor was something like mercy, Mushrambo could always understand someone's honor.

He had seen so much cowardice on the battlefield from so called warriors that she sticks out in his mind.

He wonders if she would keep her honor if put in true danger or turn to cowards like the rest of her kind.

Why was he thinking so, of course she would.

After all, humans were the same in the end.

He once again tries to banish thoughts of the little human girl from his mind.

Yakumo looks around at the restaurant they were in. It is so whimsical with adorable pictures of rabbits, cards, flowers, and other symbols of the famous novel of its namesake.

"I don't think you could ever find a cafe like this in America." Yakumo remarks out loud. Akia giggles,

"I've always wanted to go to America." Akia tells her, "I see London every year. I would love a change of pace." Yakumo blinked.

"Oh, trust me America isn't as interesting as London is. I would have loved to have lived in London. It is such a fascinating city. There are just so many dirty and run down places in America. I would love to go to a place so close to Ireland and Scotland"

"Well, there are a lot of run down places in Britain too. I guess that when you've lived in a place it loses its magic and you think all other countries are better or more cultured." She uses air quotes around cultured. Yakumo thought a moment to let it sink in.

"When I told people I was moving to Japan they thought I was so lucky, and I couldn't understand why. I was so scared of coming to a foreign land where I didn't know the language. And to be honest I still am."

Akia nods

"I am actually glad you are rather nervous. I don't mean that in an insulting way. I have just seen many Westerners coming here thinking Japan is a paradise of pockey and anime, and reality hits them hard when they realize that Naruto didn't prepare them for life in Japan. I am very glad you are more down to earth about it." She stops and waves her hands. "Don't get me wrong. I love Japan and I love living here, but there are problems here."

"Like the racism." Yakumo states. Akia gives a sigh.

"Yeah, that. I a lot of people in the West don't realize that countries outside the West can have its own issues about race. I won't get into how horrible Koreans can be treated. Now don't get me wrong. Most Japanese are far from rude. But when I have been out with my grandfather or mother...I always get the feeling we don't belong, like we are not even Japanese even though my mother has lived her whole life in Japan."

Yakumo turns her head away,

"You can relate to me, can't you. Is that why you approached me." Akia gives an uneasy grin.

"I hope you don't think I can here to use you. It is just I don't have this in common with anyone else. I don't think my friends would understand."

"I didn't believe you would. I am also glad that I have someone I can talk about this too. I thought I was going to be all alone here." It was true, Yakumo had been imagining the worse of what was going to happen. She thought of spending her days in Japan isolated and alone and praying every night to return to America.

But knowing she had a friend put her at an ease she hasn't felt since she got here. She isn't going to be alone. At least she prays.

"Would you like to meet the rest of my friends?" Akia excitedly asks her.

Yakumo's throat dries. As a rush of anxiety rushes through her, making her feel almost sick. Akia was okay. She understood that Yakumo was from a different culture that Akia was familiar with. But her friends would be fully Japanese, and unlike to know much English. Also there was a greater chance of accidentally offending them.

And besides Yakumo never had liked making friends with a large group, so suddenly.

"I am sorry, but I will pass on it for now." Akia looks disappointed at that. Yakumo prays she hasn't already made a blunder with her new and only friend in this strange land, so far.

"Okay, but I hope you will meet them soon. They would love to meet you, I know." The American girl feels relief

The cakes arrive, and they thankfully change topics.

This is the process that Mushrambo felt was truly tedious and useless; a damn psychological exam. He had learned long ago that it was best to simply give the answers the humans wanted him to give.

He barely gives thought to them now. The thing is he actually doesn't have to lie that much. The humans don't think much of Enterrans to begin with. They don't see them as having deep or complex emotions.

Which is actually an advantage for Mushrambo. He doesn't need humans prying deeply into his emotions and thoughts. Also such treatment is now beginning to wear on the Enterrans. Enterrans are being treated as little more than sentiment cattle.

The thought doesn't anger the Warrior Enterran. His self image doesn't relay on the approval of others. He has no need for sympathy, care, or love. He is a creature of solitude needing no one else. Sympathy is wasted on a creature as cold as home. He desires no love and cannot love back.

He will never give himself over to an emotion of love.

He has seen Enterrans and humans alike sacrifice themselves on the battlefield, often in vain, for the person they loved.

All their life's work undone by an act of love.

Why did others need deserve it so much?

He doesn't.

Without warning, the image of that young girl appears in his mind's eye again, making him release a growl, startling the human interviewing him.

"Is something the matter?"

 _Damn,_ he inwardly curses. Now he wonders if he will need further observation.

"It is nothing." The human writes something down, but asks no further questions.

–

"Reading that book, again, I see." Her father asks, as they walk down the hallways of the lab. Yakumo gives a light blush, at that. It is _Beauty_ by Robin Mckinly, an author who had lived centuries ago. Since Yakumo had read it as a young girl it had long been her favorite book. It was rather silly, it was a fairy tale retelling of _Beauty and The Beast_ , not a serious tone or classic.

It is just a book that gives her hope, something that touches that brings her back to read it at least twice a year.

"Ah, don't be bashful. I am just glad I have a daughter who loves to read." He gently rubs her brown hair, causing Yakumo to give a slight smile. She was truly lucky to have parents who didn't think something was wrong with her since she was different from them. Admittedly, Yakumo has more in common with her father. He is a quiet and soft spoken man. But Yakumo doesn't have his genius or his skill and respect he hold himself among his colleges or debating abilities that have won him many awards. Her mother is loud, brash, open, and wore her heart on her sleeve. And boy did she have a big and warm heart.

While her mother would entertain an entire crowd, Yakumo would be off to the side, hiding somewhere. Some people had remarked to her mother that Yakumo was cold toward them, making her mother upset. Rebecca insisted that Yakumo just liked to be quiet and goodness knows the world needs more listeners with so many idiots ran their mouth.

Her mother was so straightforward and honest. She cares little about what others thought of her. It is a confidence that Yakumo can't even dream of possessing.

But despite having a flawed, socially anxious, and average daughter they still love her.

And she feels she isn't worth it. The little blue eyed girl feels that she isn't good enough for her parents. She wishes she was smarter, more out going, and much more brave. Someone special that they could truly be proud of.

She knows the feeling is something her parents would reject if she voiced it, but she feels that way. She feels unworthy of the love and care they spend on her.

She is only special to them because she is their daughter.

Yakumo wishes she can be truly special to someone on her merits alone.

"Wait here, Yakumo, I will done with business soon." It is a small white lobby with nobody in it.

Yakumo opens back her book and begins to gently turn the pages in it. She doesn't know how much time has passed when she hears footsteps. She looks up, expecting her father, but her mouth drops, as she sees her visitor; Mushrambo.

He is staring down at her...there is something in his violet eyes...was it a hostility?

Or was it something else.

Whatever it is it defiantly makes Yakumo uncomfortable.

"Hello..." She says quietly, lowering her book down her lap. His eyes seem to lose their hostility then. He shakes his head and starts to walk away, leaving Yakumo confused. But something compels her to ask.

"How is the Enterran...that I carried to the brackets." Without turning, Mushrambo coldly informs her,

"Moto is dead." Yakumo bits her lip before answering.

"I am sorry for your lost." At this the Warrior Enterrans turns back to him, his eyes replacing the hostile look with a neutral one.

"There is no need for apologizes. He died as he lived." He didn't finish what Moto lived for. Yakumo decides to ask. Her rational side tells her that she should let this Enterran go on his way, but something keeps compelling her to speak to him.

"What do you mean by that? He was laying on a cold slab in the morgue just waiting to die. How could anyone live like that." Yakumo is surprised by her forwardness. He turns his head slightly, gazing at her from behind.

"A human would not understand this."

"You don't know unless you let me try." Yakumo is not understanding herself at this moment, usually she would be too anxious to talk to such a hostile person, but for some reason...she feels the need to reach out, to understand.

But why?

"He lived like humans wanted him to live, and he died how humans wanted him to die." Yakumo lowers her eyes.

"But it was wrong. He shouldn't have been forced to live in such a way. To be honest...I don't think my race is right about Enterrans. No one deserves to die like Moto did."

Now Mushrambo turns back to her.

"What if I told you that Moto slaughtered countless, in his duties, including children, women, the elderly, and civilians. All without question or another thought." He narrowed his eyes.

"And he would have killed you if ordered too, as well." Yakumo's gaze softens.

"The poor man."

For a brief moment a look of surprised covers the Warrior Enterran's face, but this is quickly replaced by a look at disgust.

"Poor man? I just told you he would have killed you without a thought."

"But what choice did he have?" Yakumo softly answers, "Enterrans are raised to follow orders without any concern about what they want. I like to think that if Moto would have been given a choice he could have had a much better life."

Mushrambo gives a huff.

"You are naive, Human Child. Humans throughout history have made the choice to murder, torture, rape, and countless other atrocious against their own. I know my race would hardly be better."

This catches Yakumo's curiosity.

"Not many would admit that they would do what their oppressors would do in the same circumstances."

The Warrior Enterran's brows knit together, and a scowl covers his face.

"Don't you dare call me oppressed, Human Child." Yakumo is startled at such a thing could anger him, but then she realizes it makes perfect sense.

"You have a lot of honor." She looks down, "You don't want to play the role of victim. Life has handed you this horrible card, but you refused to be called a victim. Not many have that kind of honor." She looks back up.

She sees an expression on Mushrambo's face that she would have thought impossible. His violet eyes are wide open, and his expression is rather lack. But then it retreats back to normal. But now his gaze is less hostile to her. Much more...respectful.

"You have perhaps given me the first compliment in my entire life that I have welcomed."

A warm blush covers Yakumo's face. A nice warmth fills her. Just to be told that by someone...it makes her feel...feel...

special.

She gives him a smile, and bows her head.

"I am honored to give you such a thing."

"It is true. I have heard several of your kind give mine pity, but pity is disgusting. I have no desire to be looked at as an injured animal that needs some kind of pet to make it all go away.

Pity is another way of looking down on someone. Acting as their savior, as though you can't save yourselves. I have no desire to be looked at as helpless in my own fate. Being treated as though I am helpless is an even greater disrespect." He stops for a moment before finishing.

"I have no desire to be looked down upon whether it is by hate, contempt, or pity."

He pauses, and then turns his face away.

Yakumo is left to ponder this. Making his own fate. This Mushrambo had been raised to be a tool, but he doesn't want to be a victim. Is that what she has been acting like? She has a good life, despite it all. Perhaps she had taken the role of a victim without needing too.

Perhaps it was time to start standing on her own.

She then hears the footsteps of Mushrambo walking away.

"Wait, is there...anyway...we can see each other again soon?"

Mushrambo stops in mid-stride.

There is a silence in a moment that engulfs Yakumo's heart in dread.

"Next Sunday, at four in the afternoon."

He doesn't look back. He just walks away

–

What the _hell_ had he done?

How could he confess so much to a mere Human Child?

He had never confessed so much to anything in his life...but why her?

Damn, this Human Child looked as though she might turn out to be a problem.

She would have to be one of the first to die in the time of the rebellion.

But at least he would give her the honor of dying by his own hands.


End file.
